Agent Stacy
by Skipper311
Summary: It's not so much that Stacy's life is boring, per say. She's neighbors with, you know, Phineas and Ferb. She occasionally helps their sister Candace with whatever schemes she has. Oh, and she knows their pet platypus is a secret agent. But it's not like a whole lot ever comes of that knowledge...right?
1. All Calculators Start At Zero

_She's a somewhat normal teenage girl of leisure!_

 _She's a mostly grounded brunette with a cute blue hair bow!_

 _She can putt your pants right off!_

 _She'll watch movies without stop!_

 _And if you complement her you can hear her say:_

"Can you call my mom and tell her that?"

 _She's Stacy!_

 _Stacy the teenage girl!_

* * *

"Hey! Whatcha doin'?"

"We're getting ready for Perry's adoption party."

"Wow, Ferb. But where is Phineas?"

Ferb shrugged. Baljeet sighed. "Oh well. But where is Perry?"

* * *

Down the hall, take the right, pull the table leg – watch everything fall down. Whoops. Good thing that wasn't the good china table. Oh, right, it's the _second_ table. Pull the table leg, hole opens up, swoosh down into the chair – there we go.

"Good morning, Agent P. Doofenshmirtz has been buying up mass quantities of calculators. We haven't done all the math, but it probably adds up to evil, so go solve that problem! Carl, I'm really proud of that one."

"It was excellent, sir."

"Oh, don't look so down, Agent P. I know how hard it is to work on your adoption day party, but evil never sleeps. Besides, it's not like there's anyone we could call in for you. We have to keep your identity secret. All the other agents have their own nemesises… nemesi? Nemepeople?"

But Perry was long gone. Besides, there _was_ someone who he could call in.

"I believe the proper plural form is 'nemeses," sir."

* * *

The first thing Stacy noticed is that Candace hung up. Again. The second thing she noticed was the sound of someone knocking on her window.

The third thing the noticed was that it was Perry was knocking on her window. With a fedora. And a jetpack.

"Perry, what are you doing here?" she asked as she opened the window. "Someone might see you." Her eyes widened as Perry produced a rather large – and heavy as she found as she took it into her hands – package.

"Wait, what's all this? An official O.W.C.A. one-use jetpack? A fedora? And shouldn't you be at your adoption par – oh." Realization dawned on Stacy's face. Then it dawned again.

"You want me to fight your pharmacist nemesis? So you can go to your party? But I can't fight evil! I have no idea how to – _A Beginner's Guide to Fighting Evil_. Are you sure this is enough? I mean, it's a rather short pamphlet." Perry gave her a thumbs up and a small smile.

"Well, okay, if you think so. Have fun at your party!" With that, Perry took off once more in his jetpack. "Now, let's see, step one to fighting evil…"

* * *

"…And then, finally, jump off and deploy your parachute. Seems simple enough."

 _Doofenshmirtz Evil Incorporated!_

"Oh, there's the jingle! I must be getting close. Although, in hindsight, I'm not sure how I ever missed this building."

Stacy landed on the balcony – on her feet too, not bad for her first attempt – walked through the open garage-esque door, and right into a giant calculator.

Wait, what? Yes, her foot was stuck inside a giant calculator.

 _I suppose I've seen weirder, but still…._

"Ah-ha, Perry the Platy – wait a second, you're not Perry the Platypus! Ahem. Ah-ha, Perry the Teenage Girl! Although you're not the same teenage girl you were last time. Ah-ha, Perry the Other Teenage Girl! Although, really, that doesn't roll off the tongue too well."

"Actually, I'm Stacy."

"Stacy, huh? Ah-ha, Stacy the Teenage Girl! Wait, wait, wait. So you're not Perry the Anything?"

"Nope."

"But, but– Perry the Platypus is my nemesis! I can't believe he would just not show up! I hope he didn't find another evil scientist to thwart. That would… that would be…." The poor fellow looked like he was on the verge of tears when Stacy remembered.

"Oh, here. Here's a letter Perry asked me to deliver."

The pharmacist – no, evil scientist – took the letter, and began to read.

"Dear Heinz Doofensmirtz, I am sorry I cannot make it to blah blah blah have a party to attend blah blah – he's going to a party instead of fighting me? Well, I hope he has a good time. So, are you his substitute or something?"

"Basically." Really, when she signed up for this, she expected a lot more action, not a whole lot of exposition.

"Well, here's the routine Perry the Platypus and I follow, just so you're up to speed, okay? First, Perry breaks into my lair. You've already done that, so that's a good start. And you didn't even break down my door or blow another hole in my walls."

"He usually does that?"

"Oh, believe you me, I think repairs cost more than my –inators at this point. Anyway, the second step is that I trap you. You'll have to excuse me, I-I expected Perry the Platypus, not Stacy the Teenage Girl, so I didn't make the trap to scale. Perry the Platypus is such a dear and just listens to my backstories and schemes anyway, so be a dear and just hear me out, okay? Thanks."

This was the great evil Perry went off to fight every day? It seemed a lot more exciting when they crashed into her house. Maybe platypodes didn't do much after all.

"Speaking of which, that's step three, where I explain my backstory or motive or what-have-you. I think I'll just list the steps as we go along, just so we can keep moving. Does that sound good to you?" A wordless nod and shrug. "Ahh, silent just like Perry the Platypus does it! Now you're getting into it.

"Anyway, back in Drusselstien, calculators were a rarity. Wait, you don't have the extensive knowledge about all my tragic backstories. I'm going to have to fill you in on those at some point. Anyway, one day, my mother bought a calculator for Roger, my older brother…"

Stacy sighed. This was going to be a _long_ day.

"…but she never got one for me! So I ended up flunking all my higher level math classes because I couldn't use a calculator, and no one would share. But now, the pancake has been flipped! Or something like that. Behold, the Miscalculate-inator! I will use it to blast every calculator and computer in the Tri-State Area, thereby preventing all forms of higher level math! Accountants, fantasy football players, high school students!..."

* * *

"….They will all be rendered helpless before me! I will be the only person capable of doing difficult math problems! And then, in the ensuing financial and social crisis, I will take over the entire Tri-State Area!"

Or at least, Stacy thought that's what he said. She probably fell asleep somewhere along the way, and nearly called Candace out of boredom before remembering her cover.

"Wait a minute, are you _on your phone_? _While I'm monolouging_? You know, Perry the Platypus doesn't do this. At least you didn't start taking apart my –inator."

"First day on the job. I'm still learning."

Doofenshirtz stroked his chin, looking away momentarily. "Fair enough. Anyway, that brings us to step four, where you break out of my trap just as I start to put my plan into action."

Stacy gave him a dry look, bent down, and removed the calculator from her foot. Didn't even hurt. Doofenshirtz had his own blank, yet strangely aware look.

"…Yeah, go figure. Anyway, on to step five! Actually, when I first reminded Perry the Platypus of our routine, I think I had seven steps, so I hope I'm on track. But yes, step five, where we fight!"

Finally, some action! Or at least, there would be, if Stacy and Doofenshmirtz were doing something other than standing around awkwardly. Finally, Doofenshimirtz broke the silence.

"Yeah… I'm not really used to the whole 'fight a teenage girl' thing. I have more experience with the 'fight a platypus' thing, so is that okay with you?"

"Sure. First time for me, too."

"Good. Then you can be the first victim of my Miscalculate-inator!" With that, he wheeled the machine around, aimed, and fired. Stacy, too surprised to dodge, felt the full force of the blast… which, admittedly, didn't feel like much. She didn't even stumble. As the ray subsided, both stood still, not quite sure what had happened.

"…In hindsight, considering I made this to ruin mechanical devices, I'm not sure what I was expecting. Oh well. You still can't stop me!" He pushed the device towards the open balcony, speeding past Stacy. Recovering her mental bearings, she ran after him, and managed to shove him away, the two tumbling to the floor. The –inator zoomed onward, slammed into the balcony's wall, and let out one last blast before tumbling over the edge.

"Yup. All according to plan. Step six, I get thwarted."

"- and step seven is where I make my getaway?"

"Yes, that's ri – wait, how did you know that?"

"All in the pamphlet."

"Oh. Huh. Well. Curse you, Stacy the Teenage Girl." A pause. "Nope, doesn't have the same ring as 'Curse you, Perry the Platypus.'"

"Hey, you help me set up my parachute?"

"Sure, no problem. Actually, why don't you take the elevator?"

* * *

The ride down the elevator was uneventful, at least. She had to admit, the few seconds of action where she saved the world – Tri-State Area, sorry – from Doofenshmirtz had been absolutely _thrilling_. The moments before and after, not so much, but take what you can get, right? She would have to thank Perry for the chance later.

Speaking of Perry, she wondered how the party was going.

* * *

"…And then the machine was supposed to calculate the optimal platypus trajectory to give him the most fun from the Platypult, but then it just stopped. Must have miscalculated something somehow." Ferb gave a sympathetic look to his understandably upset brother.

"Well, at least it shows machines aren't unbeatable yet."

"And then it exploded, Ferb! Machines don't spontaneously explode. Although, in retrospect, I suppose it's just as plausible as all the other ways things disappear."

* * *

"Thanks again for stopping Doofensmirtz from carrying out his evil scheme. I'm not totally sure how you did it from your host family's backyard, but that's probably just because you're that good of an agent."

The small praise accepted, Perry exited his lair and started the unassuming walk back to the yard.

"Oh, there you are, Perry." He looked up to see Stacy giving him a thumbs up, and after a quick glance around, he stood up and returned the gesture.

"Oh, before I forget, Happy Adoption Day, Perry." But the envelope she gave him had the name _Dr. Doofenshmirtz_ on it. A conspiratorial wink from her to him. One right back at her.

"You know, I wouldn't mind going on another mission. Just saying." Even as Perry stuffed the letter somewhere and went back on all fours, she could still see a small smile on his bill.

* * *

Well, with some luck, this is not the last of my work on Stacy and Perry, and this story will continue. I do have some macro storyline planned out. But that's a matter for another time.


	2. Cheesy Failure

"Thanks again for the all-nighter, Agent P. As you know, Agent-Con tends to leave us short-staffed. Intel tells us that Doofensmirtz has been buying bulk quantities of tablecloths, scented candles, and greeting cards. Go out there and put a stop to it."

With that, Perry was into the hovercar and away. But not away to Doofenshmirtz Evil Incorporated. No, he himself was off to Agent-Con. In the past, he'd been able to attend one day, at most. But now, he could attend all three days. (Thank heavens Agent-Con was only two neighborhoods away this year.)

Besides, he had left Danville and the Tri-State Area in capable hands.

* * *

"Hey, where's Perry?" Phineas looked about for the platypus, but to no avail. "What a shame. He actually got to see one of our inventions, but now he's back to disappearing again."

The familiar swing of the gate, the familiar sight of the girl across the road, and the familiar sound of the tried-and-true greeting. "Hey, Phineas. Whatcha doin'?"

"Experimenting with mirror worlds. We've flipped left and right, matter and antimatter, cause and effect! We're working on emotional mirrors next. Want to join us?"

"Sure! The Fireside Girls and I need our 'Almost the Same' patches."

* * *

"Stacy the Teenage Girl? What are you doing here? I'm not even doing anything evil today."

"Then why do you have me trapped in a giant wax candle with me as the wick?" Indeed, the girl was trapped up to her neck in scented wax.

"Oh, that. Well, I have a date tonight. That's all, Stacy the Teenage Girl. No evil scheme here."

Stacy was… unimpressed. "…This relates to me being in a wax candle how?"

"What, burning teenage girl with strawberry isn't a romantic scent?"

Stacy didn't bother dignifying the remark with a snarky retort.

"No?"

Nothing.

"Come on, Stacy the Teenage Girl, throw me a bone here."

"I'd love to, but my hands are currently encased in candle." She wiggled for emphasis – or at least as much as one can when one is encased in a giant candle.

"Whatever. So do you like what I've done with the place?" Now giving the place a proper look, Stacy saw the place looked completely different. Gone (or at least covered) were the metal plates and control panels. Instead, there was wooden paneling and hardwood floors. Lit candles adorned the walls. In the center was a small table, with a white tablecloth.

Oh, and there was a ray-cannon-looking-thing off in the corner.

Wait, what?

"Oh, that? That's my Cheesy – no , wait, we have to do this properly." He strode over to the machine. "Behold, the Cheesy-Romantic-Line-Inator!"

 _And I thought Candace was dramatic._

"With this, no one will be able to resist my romantic charm! I will be unstoppable! I will take over the entire Tri-State Area!"

"…I thought you had a date tonight."

"I do! I see that look you're giving me, Stacy the Teenage Girl." He crossed his arms and huffed. Suddenly, his eyes widened, struck by revelation. "Oh, did I say I was going to take over the Tri-State Area? Oh, that's just habit, Stacy the Teenage Girl. I just have a date tonight."

If Stacy's look could get any drier, the poor girl would have been dehydrated.

* * *

"So that's it. You just have a date tonight."

"Yes, for goodness' sake, Stacy the Teenage Girl, how many times do I have to say it? Do I need to set up a sound bite to play it over and over again?"

Stacy couldn't help but chuckle. "I did that once. My friend sometimes just goes on and on and on, you know? So I set up a recording of me going 'uh-huh' and just let it play by my phone. It took her a while to figure it out."

Doofenshmirtz began stroking his chin, a thoughtful look on his face. "You know, that's actually not a bad idea. I'll have to use that some time. Thank you, Stacy the Teenage Girl.

"Anyway, I was wondering if you'd like to be my wingman – woman – tonight, Stacy the Teenage Girl."

 _If I keep giving him dry looks like this, my face is going to get stuck this way._ "So, let me get this straight. You trapped me in a giant wax candle… so you could ask me to be your wingwoman… for a date… inside your own house."

"Well, if you know anything about my history with women –"

"I don't."

"Oh. Well, I have a few hours, let me tell you about the time…."

* * *

"You got dumped for a whale?"

"You don't have to rub it in, you know. Anyway, we're getting off-topic! So, can you please be my wingwoman for tonight? Please?"

"You do realize that wingmen/women are usually for when you go pick-up a date, not when you already have one?"

"Well… yeah, but I could always use the extra help, you know? Can you at least pose as hired help or something? I don't trust Norm with these sort of delicate tasks. Like making scrambled eggs."

"You weren't planning on serving your date _scrambled eggs_ , were you?"

"…No?"

Stacy sighed. "We have a lot of work to do."

* * *

 _You know, I usually do battle with a platypus_

 _It's not usually something about I make a fuss_

 _But I have to admit, there's something special, you see_

 _When you've got a teenage girl for a nemesis_

 _I got a teenage girl for a nemesis_

 _Her name ain't Candace or Jamie-Lee_

 _I got a teenage girl for a nemesis_

 _Yeah, I got a teenage girl for a nemesis_

 _When I need some fashion advice, she's there_

 _Especially after she blows up my hair_

 _Ain't no one gives me better dating advice_

 _Although I don't always agree over what to wear_

 _I got a teenage girl for a nemesis_

 _Her name ain't Candace or Jamie-Lee_

 _I got a teenage girl for a nemesis_

 _Yeah, I got a teenage girl for a nemesis_

 _Yeah, I got a teenage girl for a nemesis_

* * *

"This is what you wanted to show me, Candace? A mirror?"

"But look, Mom! You can step though – hey!"

"I guess you're right. Someone might try to walk though that mirror and get hurt."

* * *

Stacy had to admit, he cleaned up well… or at least, cleaned up okay. He was in a vest and slacks… and had a lab coat over it. (She conceded it was his signature look, and if it worked out for him before, who was she to argue?) Norm's usual blue suit-paint was now black. Stacy herself was in a flattering-enough French maid outfits. (Didn't want to make his date feel like she was competition, now.)

"Alright, you remember what to say, right?"

"Yeah, yeah. Sheesh, if I had known you were going to help me I would have built a Remember-Lists-Inator."

"Oh, speaking of –Inators, don't use your Cheesy-Romantic-Line-Inator."

Stacy had to feel a little bad for Doofenshmirtz. The poor guy looked heartbroken.

"Come on, I worked so hard on that!"

"I know, but trust me. Cliches are not what you want here."

Doofenshmirtz sighed, but perked up as the doorbell rang. Stacy gave one last thumbs up.

"Well, I must say, David Attenshmirtz, you certainly have good taste. I love the aesthetic of the candles, the floors. And that lab coat! Really brings out your strong chin."

"I'm-I'm glad you like it. Second person who focused on the chin over the forehead. And the lab coat, well, I do make it work." Turning, he looked for Stacy. "Oh, Stacy the Hired Help! Could you be a dear and grab some more of the homemade cheese?"

"Coming right up!" she hollered back. Turning towards the panty, she muttered, "Fighting evil, one slice of cheese at a time." She idly put one piece in her mouth, and her face lit up. "Hey, this is good!" She put another, and another, and another.

Meanwhile, Doofenshmirtz was starting to worry. The conversation had turned to affectionate banter – something he was not very good at. Unaffectionate banter, that was another story. But affectionate banter….

"You know, you look like those cartoon superheroes, so defined," she cooed. Doofenshmirtz inwardly blanked. _Was that supposed to be a complement?_

"And you look like… uh… can you excuse me for a moment?" Trying to not betray his panic (but not doing very well), he dashed to the kitchen.

"Stacy the Teenage Girl! You ate all the cheese?" Indeed, her own gut betrayed her deed.

"I'm sorry! It was just so good!"

Doofenshmirtz facepalmed. "I need to stop making irresistible cheese. Maybe just 'good' cheese." The reason why he had left his date, returning to him, he ran for his bedroom, where he had hidden his –Inator.

"No, don't do it!"

"I have to! I have to!" Bursting through the door, Doofenshmirtz slammed into the –Inator, and it let loose an errant beam. Readjusting the ray and blasting himself, he ran back to his date.

"You shine like the sun on a beautiful summer day!" If before Doofenshmirtz had inwardly blanked, he inwardly blanched now. _Man, these really_ are _cheesy._

They apparently didn't have the desired effect, though, as she recoiled in horror. "Why, I never! I hated English class as a kid, and I especially hated metaphors and similes!" With that, she rose from her chair and stormed out, Doofenshmirtz reaching for her futilely. As she slammed the door, he turned his anger to Stacy.

"You! This is your fault! Curse you, Stacy the Teenage Girl!"

"What? How is this my fault?"

"If you had just brought the cheese, I wouldn't have panicked, and wouldn't have blasted myself with the –Inator, and wouldn't have scared her off!"

A short pause later, Stacy sighed. "Yeah. Sorry about that."

Another moment later, Doofenshmirtz's anger subsided, replaced with a tired look. "Oh well. If it wasn't you, it would have been something else for sure. See you tomorrow, Stacy the Teenage Girl."

* * *

"Hey, Gretchen, can you pass me the – Gretchen, did I ever tell you how beautiful you look when the wind blows through your hair?"

A collective gasp.

"Did I ever tell you how beautiful you look without the wind blowing through your hair?"

Quivering.

"Why, I can't imagine a more beautiful sight."

Turned to shaking.

"Not even the moon on a clear, black night."

Turned to running and crying. Isabella ran though the mirror portal, head in her hands, the rest of the gang following the commotion. Phineas desperately ran after her.

"Isabella, wait!" But it was no use. Out the mirror, around the tree a few times, through the mirror.

Not the mirror portal. The mirror.

Isabella ran straight through the mirror, shattering it. Phineas was thankful for the small miracle she didn't get hurt. He himself stopped right before the shards, watching Isabella run all the way home. He stood in silence as the rest of the gang left, the Fireside Girls giving him dirty looks.

"…Was it something I said?" He sighed. A familiar chattering caught his attention. "Well, at least you're still here, Perry."

* * *

Dang. The ending wrote itself, but man, I didn't expect it to be so sad a note to end on. Anyway, I have higher hopes for the next chapter.


End file.
